


love comes wearing disguises

by skywalkingsolo



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I also suck at tags, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, i promise this is gonna get better, i suck at writing slow burn let's see how this turns out, i use the term slow burn hesitantly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkingsolo/pseuds/skywalkingsolo
Summary: When Peter Parker, the esteemed, spectacular Spider-Man, met Wade Wilson, he hated his guts.Wade Wilson, the infamous Deadpool, on the other hand, has a thing for imagining himself and his web-slinging counterpart as the lead roles in romantic comedies.***REWORKED AS OF 21/5/18: FOR NEW UPDATES SEE MY FIC 'Hold Me Now (Don't Start Shaking)'***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I've been in a fic writing rut for months now, with a ton of dead end fics nagging me. This fic is gonna somehow be how I tie together all my little half written Spideypool plot bunnies in hopes that it'll make sense and work. I have no guarantees about how it'll work out, or where I intend on going, however considering how many half written fics I've got, I'm sure there'll be more than enough here to give me ideas and actually regularly update this. Wish me luck!

When Peter Parker, the esteemed, spectacular Spider-Man, met Wade Wilson, he hated his guts.

His teeth clenched and he focused on debilitating the group of thugs who were now forming a crowd. A dumb, easy-to-handle crowd, but a crowd nonetheless. The slim hero expertly swung around the group, nailing a few kicks which resulted in a series of protesting grunts and satisfying _*thuds*_ as they hit the ground, smacking down on their backs.

Well, that was the plan, at least. That was, until Deadpool showed up. The mercenary was _obnoxious_. He always killed mindlessly, humming an irritating little tune that always drilled right into the back of Peter's brain, driving him absolutely insane. This time, instead of Peter's original, elegant and deathless plan, Wade decided to step in, ramming sai knives repeatedly into the each thugs back. Peter winced, eyes clenching shut as blood spilled from the near-lifeless bodies, onto the damp concrete of the alleyway.

As the bodies fell, Peter was left simply standing there, arms crossed and shoulders tensed tightly, as Wade sheathed his daggers.

"Fuck--" the bloodied merc began, stretching briefly as he smiled to himself at the boxes, " _\--yes!_ Damn, Spidey, did you see that? Brutal! I _love_ it! And yes, I am most _definitely_ touching myself to--"

"Would you shut the hell up? God, for once in your goddamned life, would you mind just fucking leaving me be?" The smaller male had finally snapped and his voice was rather shrill, as it was when he was angry. He was sick of Wade fucking everything up and taking all the credit. "God, you really are an idiot."

Wade raised his hands in defense, his eyes wide as he took a step back. "Whoa. Jesus, baby boy, chill the fuck out, would you? Like damn, you're cute when you're mad, but less so when you're mad at _me--_ "

"No! I'm sick to death of you and how you're always just _here_ ! Would you quit being so obsessed with me for two whole minutes as to not get in my way so I can _do my damned job?_ A-and don’t call me _baby boy_. Fuck, it’s weird."

Wade wasn't going to lie. These words, this yelling, coming from someone who he quite frankly adored? They hurt. And although he wasn't going to lie, he wasn't going to say _that_ upfront either.

{Y: Hey. _Psst._  Now would be a good time to cover up your self hate with laughter and crude jokes and--}  
[W: Good plan. You should definitely _not_ tell Peter any aspect of the actual truth whatsoever.]  
{Y: Was that sarcasm?}  
[W: _Not at all._ ]

“Would you two _shut up_?” Wade mumbled at his boxes, and Peter raised an expectant and irritated eyebrow. Peter noticed the way Wade spoke to himself, it was hard not to, but he never brought it up. He assumed enough people gave the merc shit for his behaviour.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I'll lay off on taking over your jobs.” The merc raised a fist to Peter, with an expectant look, and got a look of _'what the fuck are you doing with your fist in the air, Wade, you fucking idiot'_ from Peter. "Man, come on. It's called a brofist! Ever heard of it? No? Okay."

To which the other responded, irritated and breathless, "Of _course_ I know what a goddamned _fucking_ brofist is. Ever heard of a little thing called inappropriate timing?" Peter stomped up close to Wade's masked face, anger and rage obvious even beneath the signature webbed mask. "No?" He lingered close to his face for a moment, frustration practically radiating from the boy. Wade stood there, still in shock at this sudden outburst from his favourite web-slinging super-boy, and unsure how to respond. This was what other people usually referred to as a 'rhetorical question'. Wade didn't quite understand those, but whenever he answered them, he knew the other person would get mad. And he didn't want to make Peter any madder. His shock was obviously evident, as Peter's tightly grasped fists and furrowed brows loosened ever-so-slightly. He took a few steps back, shaking his head, "Forget it. Seeya 'round, Deadpool," he spat, and swung away, muttering something under his breath.

After tonight's incident, he wasn't sure how appropriate it would be to jerk off, which was really saying something. Maybe he'd just order in, kick his legs up and watch some crappy movie on Netflix. Sometimes, when he was feeling _especially_ pathetic, he'd turn on one of those generic, shitty, trope-filled rom-coms and imagine the leads as Peter and himself. God, he was an embarrassment. An embarrassment that had it  _sofuckingbad_ for Spider-Man.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter shot awake, sitting in bed straight up. A brief touch to his forehead was enough to feel sweat beading up, and so he promptly wiped it off with the back of his hand. _Breathe,_ he reminded himself, almost as if he’d forgotten how. _Just breathe. It’s not that hard. Just--_

He sighed deeply, slowly regaining breath, as he willed his limbs to stop shaking. It was the third night in a row that he’d either struggled to get to sleep, or wake up in the middle of the night with terror. The same reoccurring dreams plagued him night after night, reminding him of all that he’d lost. Revisiting his friends, family and lovers dying. He was just so _exhausted_. Not just physically, but emotionally. His issues bled into both his sleep and real world problems. Peter wasn’t attentive at work, in his lectures, and possibly the most dangerous part; he wasn’t attentive during fights. He was getting hurt more and more and he almost liked it, found it as a sort of deserved punishment for all the pain he’d inflicted on everyone else. It was only fair, right?

Blaring red numbers on his alarm clock blinked back at him. Zero two colon zero seven. Two in the goddamn morning. The brunette huffed, and shifted to the side of his bed, fumbling through the darkness for his bedside lamp. _Breathe. Breathe. In and out. It’s not that goddamned hard, Peter._ He steadied himself, hands pressing down on his knees as he leaned forward, shoulders slumping. And although it had taken him so long to get to even this point, the next moment, all at once, he was out of bed and pulling on his suit. He needed a release of sorts, and swinging through the city gave him a rush like no other.

***

Nightmares couldn’t touch him when he was out flying around Queens. Well, most nightmares at least. There were still villains, and thugs, and--

“Spidey!” he heard, from the same familiar voice of that damn mercenary. Speak of the devil. That voice was unmistakable. Peter willed himself to ignore Deadpool. He was _not_ in the mood for this. “Are you there, Spider-Man? It’s me, Margaret!”

“Not in the mood, Wade.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetums! You’re never in the mood. Lighten up! Live a little!”

Peter turned around at that, arms folded as he glared at that _stupidgoddamnfucking_ red and black mask.

“I’m really not in the mood tonight.” He hoped his voice read sincerity and sternness, but it probably just dripped with pain and exhaustion. Which means Wade would worry. And that would just make _everything_ infinitely worse.

“Aw, babydoll--”

“Don’t call me that. Enough with the pet names. I’m fed up.”

“Okay, okay, no pet names. How about junk food? If you won’t let me reassure you with cute names, could I shout you dinner? Have you eaten? It’s like half past two.”

“If I agree to junk food, will you leave me alone?”

Wade grinned widely at that, and slung an arm around the other hero’s shoulders. “You’re in good hands, Spidey! Trust me, I know the best places all around town. Just you wait!” he exclaimed, choosing to ignore the bit about leaving Peter alone. Peter ignored it too, and just went along with it. Free food had him sold, even if it meant being stuck with Wade for an hour or so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was pretty short! I intend on making up for it by posting at least once a day, or every few days if I start to slow down. I have another part set to post later tonight at least!
> 
> Remember to check out my Tumblr over at bossbabydriver.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my new Tumblr, bossbabydriver.tumblr.com! Always taking requests and prompts!


End file.
